Читать книгу Sweet On Peggy - Stella MacLean - Страница 11
ОглавлениеRORY PACED BACK and forth in front of the Wayfarer Inn. He’d dug out his best dress pants from among the stuff he’d brought from his mother’s house in Bangor, ironed his only dress shirt and borrowed a tie from the guy in the apartment next to him, all in preparation for tonight.
He was about to make another lap around the front flower beds of the inn when he saw her coming across the street. She hadn’t seen him yet. Her stride was long, her silky brown hair clung to her cheeks and the sea green dress she was wearing skimmed her body in all the right places. When she looked his way, he smiled and waved.
Tonight was going to be special. He could feel it. He sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, then realized that he sounded like an overeager teenager.
Peggy glanced at her watch. “Am I late?”
“No, I’m early,” he said as she came near.
She smiled at him, her eyes meeting his. “That’s nice.”
“What is?” he asked, unable to take his eyes from hers.
“You. Being early...for a change,” she said, chuckling.
“So I’m to be reminded of my one sin, am I?”
“Not if tonight goes okay. If all ends well, I will never mention the missed coffee date ever again.”
“Deal,” he said, placing his arm on the small of her back as he led her to the entrance of the inn. He felt so good walking beside her, letting her flowery perfume play along his senses. The waiter showed them to a table by the window with a view of the side garden near the trestle he’d built for their climbing roses. He held her chair for her as she sat down.
“May I take your drink orders?” the waiter asked.
“White wine for me,” Peggy said, raising her eyebrows at him.
“Me, too,” he offered. “I can’t remember the last time I had any alcohol,” he said as the waiter left.
“You don’t drink? You don’t have to have a glass of wine just because I do.”
“No. I drink. I simply haven’t since I got back from Haiti.”
“You lived in Haiti?”
He toyed with the lip of his water glass, his gut tightening. He wished now he hadn’t mentioned Haiti. Yet he’d done it out of a need to be completely honest with the woman who had held his attention since he’d met her. “Yes, for two years.”
“Did you like it?”
He’d spent the early weeks after he’d gotten back trying not to think about Haiti. He’d finally given up trying. Haiti changed his life. “I’m not sure. I don’t know how to describe it.”
“I’m listening if you want to try.”
He met her attentive gaze and was tempted. Yet he wasn’t quite ready to share those memories he’d held so close to his heart, memories both happy and tragic. “Haiti is a special place. I was working for an NGO whose purpose was to rebuild the homes lost in the earthquake. But now I’m back, ready to enjoy life, to make each moment count.”
“I admire you for what you’ve done,” she said, a smile lighting her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to encourage him to continue.
As much as he wanted to say more, he didn’t want to ruin their evening by getting into a heavy topic like the devastation in Haiti. Their wine arrived. He picked up his glass. “To this evening.”
“To this evening,” she responded, putting her glass to her lips. He couldn’t help noticing that her fingers were long, her nails painted in a subtle shade of pink.
They both ordered a steak. He was pleased to discover a woman who liked steak. Most of the women he’d dated didn’t eat steak because it was too fattening, or too something. To him it was the perfect food. To each his own, he mused as he watched her sip her wine.
“You like to ride horses,” he said.
“I do. When I came here, I was lucky enough to find a small farm property with a barn. I found two horses I love, and I’m now looking at offering riding lessons. On a very small scale, of course, since I work full-time. What about you? What brought you to Eden Harbor?”
“My mother passed away a couple of months ago. I inherited her house in Bangor, sold it and couldn’t decide what to do after. Then one day it came to me.”
Her eyes popped open, the corner of her lips tipped up in a smile. “What came to you?”
“The answer to where I’d move once all the paperwork around my mom’s death was finished. Mom summered in Eden Harbor, out on Cranberry Point, when she was a kid. She loved it. Coming here was an easy decision. I just put some of my things in storage, the rest I put in the back of my truck and I hit the road.” He felt her interested gaze on him and wanted to share more with her. “It just felt right to come here, where my mom had been so happy.” He played with the tines of his fork. “She hadn’t been very happy the last couple of years.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly.
“I am, too. She developed cancer...” He was sorry he’d brought up this particular heavy topic. It had been a very difficult time for him. His mother’s death and what he’d experienced in Haiti had left him desolate and uncertain for the first time in his life.
“Why did you choose to be a carpenter?”
“It’s more like carpentry chose me. My dad liked to build things. When he passed away a few years ago, he left me all his tools. I found myself wanting to learn everything I could about working with wood. I found a program at the tech school in Bangor and decided to try my hand at it.”
She smiled at him over her glass. He felt ridiculously pleased and happy. The best he’d felt since he’d gotten home from Haiti. As they ate they talked about so many things, and he found himself thinking that it would be nice to do this every day...with Peggy. He loved the way she listened to him, made intelligent comments about his work, offered her ideas and generally made him feel that she understood why he’d chosen carpentry.
For the first time since he’d returned home, he wanted to share his feelings about his work in the past two years. What it meant to him. Yet somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do it. To talk about it would make the agony of those months even more acute.
When the waiter brought the dessert menu, they both chose the chocolate cake. “You and I have a lot in common,” he said, enjoying the evening more than he’d imagined.
“At least when it comes to food,” she said.
“A great place to start, don’t you think?” he asked, delighted that her gaze never left his face.
“Why don’t you tell me about your job? You’re good at it, that much I know from my experience.”
“I love it most of all because of the contact with people, and especially children.”
So they shared a love of children, as well. He wondered why a woman as attractive and interesting as Peggy wasn’t already married or engaged. “Yeah, you put that little boy at ease.”
“I aim to please,” she said, color rising in her cheeks. He liked a woman who blushed when complimented.
* * *
PEGGY HADN’T SPENT such a pleasant evening with anyone in a long time. Rory was so interesting to talk to, so sexy, so sweet, so everything she wanted in a man. For him to be this perfect meant he had to have a huge flaw buried somewhere. No man was this easy to talk to, this much fun to be around and not have a female attached to him. Women loved men like Rory.
She needed time to think about this, to seek Gayle Sawyer’s advice on what had to be going on. If her feelings around him were any indication, she’d just found the man of her dreams, and the search hadn’t been easy. She’d dated a lot of men with potential, but somehow the relationship always hit a snag. Either she lost interest, or she learned something about them that turned her off completely.
Of course, she didn’t have to overcome a huge secret like Gayle did, or deal with a teenage son, but still she needed to talk to someone about this. Good advice was essential before she got in too deep with what seemed like just the right man. “Will you excuse me?” she asked as the desserts arrived.
“I’ll order coffee while you’re gone,” he said. “What would you like?”
“Cream. No sugar.”
“Hey. That’s weird. Me, too,” he said, a smile on his face, the one that made her want to smile back at him until her face cracked along the smile lines.
Definitely time to take a break from this enticing man.
Once in the ladies’ room, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were positively rosy. Her eyes were shining. She looked like a very happy woman. Yet it felt so strange, mostly because it had happened so easily, as if they were meant to be together.
She needed some helpful advice. She dialed Gayle’s number and was so relieved when her friend picked up the phone. “Gayle, it’s me, Peggy.”
“How’s your date? Don’t tell me. You’re home already because it turned out to be a bad night. I’m sorry.”
“No! Not that at all. He seems perfect...too perfect.”
“Is there such a thing?”
She propped one hip against the restroom counter. “See. That’s it. There is no such thing as a perfect man.”
“I don’t know about that. I’ve got one sitting across the table from me.”
Her friend had gotten engaged to Nate Garrison two weeks ago and was so happy it almost hurt to watch her. “You’re biased.”
“I am. So tell me more,” Gayle said.
“Like I said, he’s perfect. So perfect I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of what has to be going on beneath his gorgeous exterior. With my luck, he’s been through a horrible divorce and is looking for a shoulder to cry on.”
“Maybe...”
A woman came into the restroom and approached the sink next to Peggy. “Can you meet me for coffee tomorrow morning?”
“Sure. I’ll come in a little early and have coffee with you. Can’t wait to hear all about him.”
“I’ll tell you when I see you.” She hung up quickly, applied more lipstick, checked that her dress was fitting right over her breasts. As she adjusted her bra, she felt a sharp pinprick of pain on the side of her right breast. She loosened the bra a little and the pain eased. She opened the door and went back down the corridor toward the dining room. As she approached the door, she looked over at Rory to see that he was watching her as if she was the only woman on the planet. How sweet was that?
How much she needed to talk this over with Gayle. There was something definitely amiss. Instant happiness hadn’t happened to her ever before.
“I got him to hold our coffee until you got back,” he said as she sat down.
“That’s really nice,” she said and meant it. “I love my coffee hot.”
“I do, too.”
She sat there feeling like a...a princess. It had a lot to do with the way he looked at her, as if she was special, even beautiful. Where had this man been hiding all her life while she kissed frogs and fought off groping hands?
She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him, only long enough to allow the waiter to place a cup of coffee beside her untouched dessert. She took a forkful of cake and sighed at the luscious chocolate flavor.
“Good or what?” Rory asked.
“What?”
“The cake. It’s delicious, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely.” She took another forkful and tried not to groan with delight.
* * *
RORY WALKED HER to her car and waited while she unlocked the door. “Thanks for tonight. I had a good time.”
She glanced up into his eyes, her expression one of interest. “I did, too.”
He wanted to reach for her, pull her into his arms and kiss the breath from her. But he wasn’t very good at this dating thing. He definitely didn’t want to blow his chances of seeing her again by doing something she didn’t like. “You know, a braver man than me would kiss you.”
“A braver man?” she asked, tilting her head back, exposing her long neck.
He wanted to touch her neck, feel her skin under his fingers. He settled for touching her shoulder. “I... I...” He leaned down to her as his fingers caressed her shoulder.
She edged closer, her sighing breath his undoing. He kissed her lips, gently and slowly. She tasted like chocolate and coffee. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted to follow her home, carry her to her bedroom and make love to her all night long. He wanted her in a way that shook him to his core. But he vowed he’d take it slow. If he had anything to say about it, they’d be spending the rest of their lives together. Whoa! You’re not ready for this.
He eased away from her, opening her door as he did so. “Maybe I’ll see you at Ned’s.”
“Maybe you will,” she said breathlessly.
He watched her get in, start her car, wave to him and drive away. Or nearly. She drove over the corner of one of the flower beds as she left the parking lot. He grinned. “I won’t tell a soul,” he said, smiling to himself.
He drove to his apartment, feeling the best he’d felt since he’d come back home. He’d needed to go out with a beautiful woman the way a fish needed water. He’d missed that in Haiti. He’d been too exhausted after each day to wish for anything more than a chance to sleep without dreaming of the desperate lives so many people in Haiti experienced.
Rory drove the three blocks to his apartment, his mind on the evening and how much he’d enjoyed it. He especially enjoyed watching Peggy drive over the flower bed. To him it meant that she was feeling as excited as he was over their time together. Or maybe she was a really bad driver... Yet her car didn’t seem to have any visible dents, no missing fenders.
He eased his truck into the parking space near the rear entrance of the building, got out and went up to his apartment. When he unlocked the door, the whole space seemed different, more inviting somehow. Or maybe it was simply his good mood. He felt invigorated and upbeat. As he dropped his keys on the counter and pulled off his tie, he wondered what Peggy would say if he invited her here for dinner some night. He glanced around his living room, at the jukebox he’d salvaged early in his working career and the framed photos of his sister and parents hanging on the wall in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. With so many clients to do work for, those photos were about the only decorating he’d done since he moved in. But all that would change if Peggy became part of his life.
He had so much he wanted to share with her. So many ideas on how they could spend their time together. Or not...
Maybe she wasn’t nearly as excited about him as he was about her. He yanked off his shirt, pulled off his pants and climbed under the covers.
He was getting ahead of himself. He’d sleep on it and see how he felt in the morning. It took two to make a relationship, and at no point did she say anything about her life or whether she was interested in him. He’d jumped to the conclusion that she was interested in him based on the fact that she’d driven over a flower bed.
Way to go, MacPherson.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Peggy awoke feeling great. Is that what a decent date with a gorgeous man did to a woman? Of course, there was that not-cool moment when she’d driven over the flower bed. He’d been watching her mortifying misstep from his vantage point of the parking area, so there’d be no way she could deny it. Would he bring it up to her when they saw each other again? Would they see each other again? She sincerely hoped so.
In the meantime, she needed to get to work and to coffee with Gayle. She raced through her morning routine, including feeding the horses. When she arrived at work, the cafeteria was just opening up, and Gayle was waiting for her.
“So, how was your date?” Gayle asked as they made their way toward the cafeteria doors. The early morning light streaked the sky outside the wall of windows, highlighting the water clinging to the waxy leaves of a shrub pressed against the glass.
“It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. I don’t get it.”
“That it was perfect, or that it happened to you?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Why don’t you simply let things be? If he’s that charming and nice, he’ll be in touch. If not, you won’t get hurt,” Gayle said as they arrived at the coffee shop.
“You think it’s as simple as that?” Peggy asked, pouring coffees for both of them.
“I know it is. Don’t chase him. I’m pretty sure he’s going to be in touch really soon. The question will be whether or not you’re ready for a relationship.”
“Gayle! I’ve been ready all my life. I just keep coming up with the wrong man. That’s the kind of man I attract, which means that Rory will probably be just like the others.” They paid for their coffees and moved toward a table near the back of the cafeteria.
“I don’t think so. Call it a hunch, but I believe you’re in for a surprise.”
“You’re in love, so your judgment can’t be relied upon,” she teased.
“Maybe a little. But in my opinion, it’s your turn for happiness, and this might be the man,” Gayle said, glancing around the space.
“Are you a fortune-teller in your spare time?”
“No. I simply believe that when two people are meant to be together, there’s nothing that will stop them.” Gayle’s smile warmed the entire room. “I happen to know that to be a fact.”
Peggy pointed at the diamond sparkling on Gayle’s finger. “It’s easy for you to be so optimistic.”
“Just trust your instincts. In the meantime, tell me more about this Rory person.”
Peggy had no trouble spending the next half hour on Rory and their date. Gayle laughed when she told her about him being late for coffee. Gayle smiled knowingly when Peggy told her about him waiting for her at the inn. As they headed down the hall to work, Peggy realized it was the first time in her life that she had talked for so long about a man she’d only just met.
Later that day as she returned to her house, driving along the narrow track road that led past Ned Tompkins’s house, she did a quick check for Rory. He wasn’t there, and she was disappointed.
Give it a rest. You just met this man!
When she got to her driveway and turned in, Ned was standing there waiting for her. What was so important that Ned was in her yard? She pulled to a stop and got out. “Is there something wrong? Did Zeus get out again?” He’d gotten out a week ago, and she’d been forced to search the neighboring fields looking for him.
Ned approached her, his eyes bright. “This is probably not mine to ask, you understand.” His eyes focused on hers. “What’s your connection to Bill Cassidy?”
She’d come to Eden Harbor, where her mother had grown up, looking for anyone who might know about her mother’s past. She was very interested in whom her mother had dated growing up in Eden Harbor, whom she’d been friends with. She hadn’t been able to learn very much about her mother, only that her parents had both passed away. Eden Harbor was her only lead in finding who might have been her birth father. She’d first met Bill Cassidy when he’d found her searching her mother’s graduation class photo at the local high school. Bill Cassidy had walked up to her wanting to know if he could help her. When she asked about Ellen Donnelly, he was curt with her. Feeling intimidated by his presence, she left when the opportunity arose, hoping to learn more about her mother some other way. “He’s the coach at the high school. He coaches the volleyball team I play on each Wednesday night.” She had no intention of telling Ned about her earlier encounter with Mr. Cassidy. “Why do you ask?”
“Is that all?”
“What do you mean?”
“My sister is Lisa Sherwood. You know her?”
“Yeah, she’s on the team. You know that. I mentioned it to you the first time I went to the practice.”
Ned rubbed his chin and scuffed his feet on the dirt of the driveway. “Some of the team feels that you and Bill are a little too chummy.”
She’d hardly describe their relationship as chummy. “What are you trying to say?” she asked, angry and hurt that people would talk about her that way. She was always very careful to be friendly but not overly so, especially with men, for this reason.
“He’s a man twice your age. That’s all. You don’t want people talking that way about you, do you?”
She clenched her fists and searched for a calmness she didn’t feel. “What if I didn’t care what people talked about?”
“Are you saying there’s something going on between the two of you?” Ned’s expression was one of fascination.
Peggy would like to tell her nosy neighbor to get lost. But she didn’t need any gossip going around about her, and even worse, Bill probably had a wife who wouldn’t be happy to have baseless rumors circulating about her husband. Most of all, Peggy didn’t want Bill Cassidy to hear gossip connecting him to her. He was the school sports coach. “I told you. He’s only my volleyball coach. He almost certainly has a wife. For the record, there is no relationship between Mr. Cassidy and me, other than the obvious one.”
“Bill Cassidy doesn’t have a wife. He doesn’t have a girlfriend that anyone knows about.” Ned continued to watch her in that odd way of his. “I wouldn’t have asked about him, only he was over at your house one day,” he said quietly. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you. Just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”
Bill Cassidy had been visiting her neighbor farther down the road past her house, spotted her in her paddock with Zeus and had stopped by. Nothing more to it. “He came to see my horses once. He’s a great coach. That’s all. He’s kind to everyone, including me.” He’d been very nice. Very interested in where she had gotten the horses and how she had chosen each of them.
“I’ve known Bill Cassidy all his life, and he’s never been interested in horses.”
“People change,” she said. Thinking about it now, it did seem very peculiar.
“If you say so,” he mumbled, looking just a little embarrassed.
Ned had been a good neighbor in the two years she’d been here. But his sister was in a whole other league when it came to minding other people’s business. If she were a betting woman, she’d bet that Lisa had pressed Ned to ask questions about her relationship with Bill Cassidy.
Ned headed off along the road, disappearing into his house a few minutes later. Peggy breathed a sigh of relief. She shouldn’t have gotten angry with Ned. Although he was nosy, he had been helpful and kind to her over the years. When she moved in, he’d helped her fix the fencing, clean out the stalls. When she told him she’d pay him, he refused, saying that he was happy to have someone living on the road.
This was the first time he’d behaved so strangely. Maybe he was genuinely concerned about her reputation. She went into the house and turned on the TV for company as she organized her dinner before heading out to feed the horses. She loved the routine of her day, especially looking after her horses. Sherri Brandon, one of Peggy’s other friends at work, had stopped her today to ask about giving her stepdaughter, Morgan Brandon, riding lessons. She was looking forward to the opportunity, wondering at the same time what day of the week she should offer Sherri.
She had a volleyball game this evening and was looking forward to it. She loved the game, something she had shared with her mother, Ellen. When she was a teenager, she and her mother used to practice around a net her father had put up in the backyard of the Craftsman house they lived in during her father’s time in Canada. Her favorite place of all the places they’d lived.
When she got to the gym, everyone was there, ready to play. The game was fast and exciting, during which she scored four times, a record for her. Coach Cassidy had been generous with his praise, reminding her of Ned’s inappropriate comments.
She was determined not to let Ned and his dreadful sister influence how she behaved around the coach and agreed to join the team for a drink to celebrate the win. She showered and dressed, ready for a fun evening.
She hadn’t thought of the sore spot on her right breast since she’d been out on the court, and she didn’t plan to think about it now. Tomorrow would be time enough. She had a routine physical in the morning, and she’d talk to Dr. Brandon about it then. She’d looked on the internet, and what she had near her underarm didn’t look like any of the pictures she saw, some of them really awful.
Once at the pub, they pulled a couple of tables together.
“That was a great game,” Tina Sullivan, a nurse from the hospital, said as she settled in next to Peggy.
“It was. And we have our coach to thank for most of it,” Peggy said, feeling generous toward the man who had been pretty tough on all of them these past months. “To you,” she said, holding up her beer to the man sitting across the table from her.
“Hey! This isn’t about me. It’s about you ladies. You deserved to win tonight.” He raised his beer and clicked her bottle. “To all of you.” But he seemed to be saying the words to her. Or was it her imagination? Had Ned’s insinuations changed how she saw her coach? She hoped not. She’d learned more about playing volleyball since joining this team a year ago than she’d ever learned during all her high school years.
She sipped her beer, acutely aware that Coach Cassidy was watching her. Did any of her teammates notice? Or had this extra attention always been there, and she was the last to see it? She’d always played as hard as any of her team members because of his good coaching and because she loved the game. And of course, the coach had spent hours encouraging, teaching and sometimes cajoling them to try harder, to do better. It was only natural that he’d be paying attention to each of them.
Yet she couldn’t completely block out Ned’s words, and it made her feel sad and angry at the same time. She didn’t know much about Bill Cassidy aside from the fact that he was the coach at the high school and the kids he coached all seemed to like him. The only negative thing she’d ever heard about him was from Gayle. It seemed that her son, Adam, hadn’t made the basketball team, and Gayle believed he should have. Gayle was very proud of her son and believed in him. It only made sense that she would want Adam to succeed in whatever he did. Lots of kids don’t make teams, so it was hardly a negative where the coach was concerned.
One thing was certain: neither she nor Coach Cassidy deserved to be gossiped about in the way Lisa Sherwood had done to her brother. She glanced across the table to see Lisa staring at her. She gave the woman a determined smile. It wasn’t fair to her or Bill Cassidy, this feeling that somehow there was something going on between them.
Yet each time she looked in the coach’s direction, he was glancing her way. She was beginning to feel vaguely creeped out. Whatever was going on, she didn’t need any more trouble. Disheartened, she decided to leave when her beer was finished. As she got up, so did Coach Cassidy, and he followed her toward the door.
“I need to talk to you when you have a minute,” he said, over the din of the bar.
“Can it wait?” she asked without stopping. When he didn’t answer, she turned around to face him.
He rubbed his face, looked her up and down. “Something... I need to discuss something with you,” he said, his voice low and anxious.
What could be so wrong that he would suddenly get upset about? Coach Cassidy was always cool and in control. Whatever it was, she couldn’t handle it right now. Not until she knew what the funny mark on her breast was. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“See you next Wednesday,” he called to her as she strode purposefully toward the door leading to the parking lot.
She didn’t know if she’d be at the practice next week or not. She didn’t need anyone talking the way Ned had earlier. She didn’t need any more stuff to worry about. She had enough on her mind.
